


Propulsive Steps (There's No Stopping Me Now)

by Taste_of_Suburbia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Collective Soul, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhaustion, Family, Family Drama, Family Reunions, Fighting, Flashbacks, Fluff, Frustration, Hurt Gabriel, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Lucifer's Cage, Making Up, Multi, Realization, Romance, SPN Angels and Demons Exchange, Threesome - M/M/M, Unloading, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 20:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taste_of_Suburbia/pseuds/Taste_of_Suburbia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, Gabriel grew sick to death of his brothers and fled to Earth, disguising himself and vowing never to return. Only, it’s not exactly the end yet, and unfortunately, the archangel’s past is coming back to bite him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Propulsive Steps (There's No Stopping Me Now)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [obsidianlullaby](https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidianlullaby/gifts).



> This was written for obsidianlullaby for SPN Angels and Demons Exchange. The prompt was: _‘Gabriel/Lucifer/Michael. Bottle episode. Gabriel somehow ends up in the Cage, not dead, and proceeds to call his brothers out on all their shit. They don't take it well, at first, but they can only deny the consequences of their actions for so long. Healthy doses of hurt/comfort would be appreciated.’_ Thanks for the challenging yet fantastic prompt, I hope it pleases.   
> _Soundtrack:_ Collective Soul’s ‘Precious Declaration’

_~New meanings to the words I feed upon_   
_Wake within my veins elements of freedom_   
_Can’t break now, yeah I’ve been living for this_   
_Won’t break now, I’m cleansed with hopefulness~_

 

To say Gabriel is angry is an understatement. Yet, maybe there's a plus side to all this after all. One he's blind to but nonetheless must be there, right? 

Sure, maybe Gabriel's always been the one to just sit and sulk, refuse to take action, whine about his horrible lot in life and yet not think up anything to change that. It was why he had run, after all. He grew sick to death of the animosity constantly stirring between his brothers; suffocated by the arguing and the words said in spite; tired of spoiled Lucy forever wanting attention and always getting it, because of the threats he made and the stupid, mindless things he would do if he wasn’t receiving _ample_ attention. Even if Michael was infuriated with him beyond all reckoning, Lucy would still get _all_ the attention, _all_ the time. 

In the end, Gabriel didn't even need to pout or threaten anyone himself. Lucifer was his father’s favorite and Michael must have been his second, so where did that leave Gabriel? It didn’t matter what he _wanted,_ what he _needed,_ it didn’t matter that he didn’t need _all_ the attention, _all_ the time. He was forced into the background whenever he tried to fight his way back up to the forefront of their lives, wanting only for them to look at him or say one word that wasn’t one of insult, telling him not to be so childish.

There came a time where he just couldn’t cope anymore. He grew so exhausted and depressed and no one seemed to notice, let alone care. His father wasn’t around more often than not, and the vehemence between his two brothers picked up to unbearable proportions. 

Gabriel was _alone._

In the end, he just packed up his wings and he left, vowing to never come back, knowing his brothers would probably never want him back anyway. One less brother wouldn’t be such a huge loss, they would do just fine, better than fine without him. 

That was just how the cookie crumbled. That was how Gabriel went from a happy, indulgent young life to a bitter one, where being ignored was actually the least of his concerns, given he would have eventually had to pick a side. Gabriel hated to choose sides, he was fine just settling down in the middle, not with one or against one, content to stay put. He wouldn't have been able to do that any longer if he had stayed. 

So Gabriel left, for more reasons than one, with no clear purpose in mind other than the need to disguise himself from his father and brothers. He left the only home he had ever known for another he knew next to nothing about. He had watched humans for ages but wasn’t even close to understanding them or viewing himself prepared to linger among them. 

Gabriel gave up, escaped and never looked back.

It's funny, cause he's always hated that saying where the past comes back to haunt you; it’s so human and has that certain sense of inevitably he hates. Right now though, that’s exactly what’s happening to him: Gabriel and his two infuriating brothers stuck in the same place for who knows how long... and it really isn't funny at all. He would rather be back with the Winchesters right now compared to all that could and no doubt _is_ about to happen. 

Gabriel should be happy he isn't dead, should feel appreciative at being given a second chance. But Gabriel isn't happy or pleased or appreciative at all. Instead, he's annoyed, and that’s putting it mildly. 

Because it seems there's no clear way out of this one. 

 

_Earlier..._

Gabriel wakes up quickly, feeling immediately that something is off and sure enough, he opens his eyes to find Michael and Lucifer hovering over him. He blinks a few times in disbelief, wondering what’s going on, if this is some sort of trick or if...

“We wondered when you would wake.” Michael’s voice, which he hasn’t heard in ages and has truly _missed,_ helps to ground him and he sits up, keeping a wary eye on Lucifer, who is currently staring down at him in nothing less than complete shock. He half expects him to just up and kill him again, but he seems more confused than anything and Gabriel can only hope it stays this way, making a mental note to not do anything to provoke him. 

Michael is quite a force to be reckoned with though, always has been and always will be, and while his eyes may drift back and forth between the two, he remains close to Gabriel as if to protect him. Gabriel wonders if Michael’s aware that he’s supposed to be dead, and figures he probably does. 

He is weak and sore and tired, content to allow his brothers to watch over him for the moment; though he lets himself drift closer to Michael, seeking his protection if he’ll offer it. Gabriel can’t remember the last time his brothers looked at him like this, let alone looked at him at all. A certain warmth invades him and he basks in it as he sinks deeper into the couch, though his mind also reels at why Michael is here and more specifically, how Gabriel managed to end up here after his other brother killed him too recently for comfort. 

“What happened...?” He tries to sit up but only ends up falling back into the couch, his limbs unresponsive for the moment and head still too muddled for him to think clearly. 

“Take it slow,” Michael warns him, but there is no fire in his eyes when Gabriel looks up into them, there is nothing but concern and wonder. Both are completely unexpected but entirely welcomed. 

Gabriel desperately wants to be angry, desires to display just how much rage he has towards his two brothers, who he may have left behind but who had certainly abandoned him long before that. However much he wants to feel this though, wants to get up and rant at them for all the hurt they’ve caused him, for driving him away, for being killed for standing up to Luce, he wants the attention more, and he doesn’t want to say or do anything that will make the two stop looking at him with worried eyes, instinctively protecting him. 

Even Lucifer seems strangely concerned, his eyes never leaving Gabriel as they take him in. His fingers brush against his arm even, as if he needs to feel that his younger brother is doubtlessly alive and not just a figment of his imagination. Gabriel jumps at the sudden sensation, but Lucifer’s gentle hand on his arm and Michael’s soft, incredibly serene murmur still him and cause him to sigh out loud in relief. 

His two brothers exchange glances and without a word, Lucifer settles down on the edge of the couch, his shoulder brushing against Gabriel’s. “I walked in here and found you on the floor, unconscious but alive. We were fully prepared to ask _you_ what happened.” His tone isn’t condescending, disappointed or wrathful, and Gabriel doesn’t get the vibe that Lucy is fixed on erasing him from existence, for good this time. 

He can’t imagine how it could be like this, at how he no longer feels fear. Maybe it’s because Michael’s here, the voice of reason, the protector, someone for Gabriel to hide behind when he was younger and frightened. But Michael could rarely get Lucifer to back down from anything, and Lucifer certainly wouldn’t hold back from Michael now. 

The both of them seem to be on good terms as they stand before him, as if all that old animosity has dissipated, as if it was never there in the first place and Gabriel merely dreamed it. He hasn’t though, he knows this is hell, and Lucifer holds that knowing look on his face that proves he tried yet obviously failed to kill him. 

He must be dreaming this exact moment then, right? One last desire of his before he truly dies: for the three of them to be reunited, for the slate to be wiped clean. 

“You gave the two of us quite a fright, Gabriel.” Michael’s smile is gentle and genuine as his attention is driven away from Lucifer and back towards his younger brother. Gabriel nearly blushes at the fact that the only eyes he’s ever wanted on him are on him now. It seems too good to be true, to finally die or _almost_ die, and for him to wake up to find his brothers actually seem to care about _him._

Right here, right now, he wants to cry, but in happiness rather than from despair.

He wants to ask how and why: how he could have possibly survived, and why his brothers are being so uncharacteristically careful with him as they settle beside him, pressing themselves so close that Gabriel imagines it should be suffocating, but it is nothing less than _perfect_ and all he has ever needed and wanted. 

“We’ll discuss all this later on.” Michael, always the leader, always the voice of reason. “At the moment, you should sleep some more.”

“You need it,” Luce adds, and Gabriel should be afraid and Gabriel should be demanding answers and keeping awake and alert, but he’s too exhausted to sit upright and he falls back down into the waiting arms of unconsciousness. 

 

Archangels don’t typically need to sleep; however, this doesn’t mean that they can’t or shouldn’t every once in a great while. Often it’s necessary after battle or trauma and sometimes, albeit rarely, they may exhaust themselves so much over a short period of time that their grace merely forces them to sleep, paying no heed to the archangel’s protests. 

This is definitely one of those times. 

Gabriel has never experienced it before and hoped he never would, but with not only the pushing of his two brothers, but also his grace merely refusing to accept the fear he should feel in his current situation, and his genuine want to stay awake when he’d only just woken up, he had been forced to check out. 

For two days. 

A very long time to Gabriel because, again, he needed to stay awake; he wasn’t sure how long he had been out before Mike and Luce found him. 

His eyes open this time to look straight at a sleeping Michael, face mere inches from his own. His arms are wrapped around Gabriel and he also feels a familiar presence at his back, one that must be Luce and he shivers for a moment, almost prying himself away before he hears Lucifer snuffle and feels his forehead burying deeper into Gabriel’s back. Gabriel smiles then, relaxing once more, sandwiched between the two of them. 

It used to be like this a very long time ago: the three of them curling up together on the couch, content to wrap their limbs tightly around each other, _possessive._ That was as much as Gabriel got though; Lucifer and Michael were always at it: angry sex, attention-seeking sex, sex just for the hell of it. Gabriel had apparently still been too young in partake in any of it, but that didn’t mean his eyes didn’t wander, didn’t watch every touch, didn’t hear every moan and see every brush of skin against skin. 

He wanted in, wanted in before he even realized what that would mean. 

Michael would order him around, tell him to do this or that, to be more responsible like himself or even more ambitious like Lucifer, who would merely ruffle his hair and chuckle at Gabriel’s half-hearted attempts at gaining their laughter, attention and even trust. Michael would sigh sadly at him, always disappointed, like Gabriel was something he could never fix because apparently Gabriel _needed_ fixing. Luce was always the one to indulge him, to get Mike off his back. 

But just as he had lost Michael, he had eventually lost Lucifer too. 

And it burned fiercer than hellfire ever could. 

Suddenly, _very_ suddenly he can’t hold back all the irritation, rage and misery he’s kept buried deep down inside himself for all this time, can’t stop himself from or convince himself not to _explode._ There is so much that Mike and Luce have to make up for, as far as he’s concerned, and he can’t let any of it slide. He can’t just lay here in their arms and let them pretend that he wasn’t just killed by a brother who was always supposed to defend him, protect him, laugh at all his stupid jokes and indulge, treat like an annoying younger brother that he loves anyway. 

It used to be like this, and it physically pains Gabriel for him to realize it. He can’t remember when it all changed, maybe it was when their father suddenly placed everything on Michael’s shoulders, as if he alone could handle it. Lucifer just wanted attention and Michael didn’t have the time, and he would do anything and everything to get his attention and most of the time, it worked. 

And Gabriel stopped being the younger brother, stopped being _loved._

It’s impossible to assume that everything is fine between the three of them, because there are so many things left unresolved, so many words said and not said that need to be taken back or _said._

He slides out from underneath Michael’s strong, warm arms, causing Lucifer’s cold fingers to slip out from where they had been entangled in his hair. His movement causes Michael to stir and blink up at Gabriel, and it’s only another moment before Lucifer wakes up, his gaze latching onto him as well. 

“You ruined my life,” he tells them, standing at the foot of the bed. He can’t _not_ tell them. 

Michael seems to come back to life at that, his eyes gaining a bit of that fire Gabriel is so accustomed to being a witness of. Gabriel isn’t stopping yet though, and if the both of them can’t understand that then they’re fools.

“I wanted you two,” he tells them before they can get in a single word. “I wanted it to be like _this,”_ he gestures around the bedroom, at the king-sized bed that only seconds prior they had all been claiming, curled around each other, comfortable and finally together again. “But you _ignored_ me and you drove me away, and you didn’t even care that I had left, you didn’t even try to come and get me. How could you not?” His voice starts to crack but he can’t stop now, _wouldn’t_ want to stop now. If Lucifer and Michael can’t figure out on their own how much Gabriel has _missed_ them, how many times Gabriel wished he had never left, that he had just remained and waited out the storm, then he has to show them, he has to _tell_ them.

He glances back and forth between them, takes note of their wrath about to be unleashed solely upon him and he doesn’t care. 

Because now he finally has his moment to say _exactly_ how he feels. 

“Why? What did I do wrong?” He begs them, “Why wasn’t I good enough? I was always just in the way,” and tears are spilling down his cheeks now, his eyes burning and his insides twisting, but he also doesn’t have the time to care about that. “I could never do anything right. I can’t even die like I’m supposed to...” 

Lucifer is out of bed so fast that before Gabriel knows it, he’s pinned him up against the wall, blocking his view of Michael and the rest of the room around them. “Is that what you want, little brother? Shall we try it again?”

He shoves Luce off of him and receives a shocked look in response, one that screams: ‘did you really just do that? Knowing what I still just might do to you? It wouldn’t be so hard to make sure it works this time, you know.’ His mouth remains firmly shut though, glaring daggers at Gabriel. 

The youngest turns to Michael, “Always so self-righteous, like your way was the only way. Anything at all to please dad, am I right? You would even abandon your brothers as long as it was what dad wanted, and you did, and you didn’t even think about it, did you? You wanted to be his favorite, so badly, and you hated that Luce got all the attention, even when he was busy wreaking havoc on daddy’s creations. You blindly followed him, never questioning his judgment... it made me _sick._ And I’m sure it made Lucy here sick too, what with you trapping him in the Cage, even when he begged you not to...” He stops then, suddenly fearful of everything he has just said and the inevitable consequences of his words. 

Michael is always swift to hand out punishment, after all. 

Lucifer looks at him with incredulity, barely moving an inch since Gabriel began his rant, one he hasn’t even come close to finishing yet, by the way. It isn’t like he was planning on defending him, but by the looks on both of their faces, that’s exactly what he’s doing. While Lucy might acknowledge it though, he certainly isn’t intending on appreciating it, and this shows in the way Michael’s outrage soon snuffs out everything else, as he moves closer to Gabriel and nothing hinders his footsteps. 

Gabriel is so used to shrinking back against the nearest wall in fear of his big brother’s wrath, but not this time, this time he stands his ground. Gabriel is not a little kid anymore; he may be their baby brother but he is still a force to be reckoned with and old enough to tell it like it is. He should’ve done this ages ago but he didn’t have the courage. Dean Winchester forced him to take the final leap that he needed, the one that would and luckily _has_ led him here. He has Dean to thank; unfortunately, that day may never come. 

He tunes back into the situation at hand, knowing he has nowhere to run this time. 

Nowhere to hide. 

He doesn’t have much time left, either one of them might manage to successfully kill him in the next minute. If they do though, if he doesn’t accomplish at least partially breaking through to them and getting them, or at least Lucy, to realize that permanently getting rid of their little brother is, in fact, not a reasonable option, then that means his brothers don’t care about him at all. 

And he can’t possibly accept that yet. 

“And you,” he points an accusing finger at Lucifer, “don’t think you’re getting the sharp end of the stick. You always wanted what you wanted, never caring about what anyone else wanted or _needed,_ and if you didn’t get your way it was: ooh... temper tantrum time. Like it was your only option, like Mike didn’t already have enough on his plate. Oh, and by the way, Dad still loved you, you dick. You just couldn’t see it. He was so proud of you, creating humans didn’t change anything. Even if they were his prized possessions, you would always be his favorite and I guess that wasn’t enough for you, huh...?”

Without warning, Lucifer’s hands wrap around his throat, making it difficult for him to breathe and Gabriel is, in truth, terrified at the blind hatred his brother exudes. It’s almost as if Gabriel isn’t his brother at all, like he’s just this disgusting thing to obliterate. He struggles to swallow under his hands, tears forming in his eyes at the pressure at his throat, and the fact that he was stupid enough to believe he could get through to him at all. 

His hands slip a little when Michael says his name, and Gabriel doesn’t waste a second, taking a deep, dizzying breath. “You had to run around, showing your displeasure, jealousy and pigheadedness making you blind. No wonder you were so far gone when Mike tried to get through to you. You had to just throw it all away, didn’t you? You just couldn’t accept that daddy’s attention wasn’t on you one-hundred percent of the time. What about Mike? And what about me? We loved you, you were more important to us than those things could ever be.” 

_Things._ He used to call humans that all the time, but he doesn’t particularly like it now, something which was put on full display when he stood up to defend them against his brother. But the other part was true, he loved the both of them more than he did humans. And maybe that was what had driven Lucifer to the breaking point, thinking Gabriel chose them before him when it really wasn’t that at all.

He was trying to get him to see that they don’t need to be destroyed. 

That there are such good things about them and in them, things to live up to. 

It doesn’t take long before Gabriel sees something in his brother’s eyes that ceases his words, that stops his head from continuing to overwork itself and spiral out of control. Gabriel doesn’t know what it is, and doesn’t have time to figure it out before his hands suddenly aren’t around his throat anymore and he’s dropping painfully to the ground, struggling to breathe despite his throat beginning to swell, the pain that wracks him with each breath. 

His vision goes dark for a moment; it fades back in agonizingly slowly to Lucifer pacing and Michael watching him carefully, as if one more word will definitely send him over the edge. “Mike...”

Mike’s fist connects with his cheek, and it _hurts._

“Quiet. I think you’ve done enough talking for one day.”

He feels wretchedly _human,_ letting his brothers do what they will to him and taking it all, refusing to heal himself, refusing to make this easy because none of it is supposed to be _easy._

His two brothers, who always have and always will mean the world to him, leave then, refusing to look back or say another word. Gabriel wants to follow them, wants to tell them that he doesn’t want to be alone anymore, that he’s _sorry,_ but he figures it would be the wrong move. 

Gabriel presses himself back against the wall, buries his head in his hands, and promptly sobs. 

 

Minutes go by silently and languidly at first, they then morph into torturous seconds that leave Gabriel’s skin crawling and his head reeling with confusion, frustration and exhaustion. Wandering around, albeit in a daze, is the only thing that breaks the monotony. There are an endless amount of rooms, and he gets lost easily because just when he believes he’s seen everything, a new corridor opens up right before him. It’s vexing but also sort of welcomed, considering how bored and stressed and in pain he is, what with his cheek and throat both feeling like they’re literally on fire and all.

Sometimes he’ll hear Michael and Lucifer talking in hushed voices, but whenever he opens a door the abrupt silence and isolation weighs down heavily on him. Gabriel doesn’t know how long they’re going to torture him, but he’s starting to think death would be highly preferable to _this._

It’s only been four hours by his estimation, and already he can’t handle it anymore. 

He eventually ends up back in the bedroom he had woken up in, nervously waiting for one or both of his brothers to make an appearance. As the minutes continue to tick by though, he starts to grow sick to his stomach. What if past events were playing out all over again? What if his outburst that had been boiling up inside of him for too long, had been entirely unwelcome and now they were punishing him for it? Ignoring him? 

Gabriel knows this feeling, knows this degree of isolation. You’d think living with it for so long would cause it to gain the status of ‘old friend.’ But the future horrifies Gabriel, even more so as he wanders around, searching for exits, trying to get out of here and anywhere else. Anywhere else where he isn’t as alone as he is now. 

He needs to pull himself together but he can’t. He should feel fortunate that his brothers neglected to kill him when they had the perfect opportunity, though it doesn’t really matter, cause they could very well be discussing the best way to get rid of him now. 

The moment Michael shows up in the doorway, he doesn’t even believe it; it feels more like a dream than reality. After all, who says archangels can’t hallucinate? He looks away, thinking he’s losing it, but Mike walks right on up to him and Gabriel can’t ignore him now. 

“Gabriel...”

“I want to leave. Tell Lucy if he isn’t planning on killing me he needs to let me go. I’m about ready to bash my head against the wall...”

“We’re trapped.”

“Trapped?” Gabriel answers in disbelief, looking up at his brother to find a clarity forming that he can’t shake. This is _real._ It looks real and it feels more real than it did only moments before. 

“This is the Cage,” Michael gently tells him, crouching down beside Gabriel, who sits tense and weak on the carpet. He can’t help but almost laugh at how Lucy treats his Cage as more of a vacation spot than what it actually is, with how lavishly every square inch is decorated and how many rooms there are. 

Speaking of Lucy, he can feel him hovering in the doorway but doesn’t look up. His oldest brother rewards him with a soft smile, his hand straying to Gabriel’s cheek, healing the area he had rashly hit hours earlier. Gabriel could have easily mended the damage but he didn’t, he wanted Michael to witness it when he came back down from his blinding rage, wanted the both of them to see just a bit of all the hurt they had inflicted on him. That it _mattered._

He wouldn’t take the bruises away himself, because even after the swelling went down and it faded he would still _feel_ it. 

“You were right, Gabriel. Even Lucifer is hard-pressed to admit it, but we haven’t exactly been good brothers to you. And to each other,” he adds, looking up at the room’s third occupant, as if beckoning him to come forth and he does, crouching down beside his little brother as well. 

“We have a lot to make up for.” Luce’s smile is kind and it is blinding, and he lays his mouth softly on Gabriel’s throat to heal the swelling and bruising he had caused there. Lucy spends several moments like this even when the bruises have long faded into oblivion, lips brushing lightly against Gabriel’s skin, sending sparks of pleasure throughout his entire being. “But so do you.” His hand tilts Gabriel’s head up to look at the both of them, and Michael’s arm wraps around his back to hold him in place; it isn’t a restraining hold, one merely firm enough to encourage Gabriel not to move. 

“You shouldn’t have left, Gabriel.”

And Gabriel opens his mouth to tell Michael that they should have looked for him, that they should have convinced him to come back home, that things would change. But Lucifer’s mouth soon claims his own and renders him silent, and when his brother pulls away he still can’t form words. “It was the wrong move, little bro.”

His head lowers, expecting to be further reprimanded. It’s not like he could ever stand a chance against the both of them together. 

_The both of them. Together._ It sounds strange when Gabriel says it in his head, because his two brothers have never agreed on anything, have never teamed up like they’re doing now for the sole purpose of making their younger brother see reason, when all three of them need to see it, not just Gabriel. Yes, he shouldn’t have left. Yes, he should have waited things out. But waiting was never his thing, and he figured it would be better for everyone if he had just left. 

He really didn't think Michael and Lucifer would have cared so much. 

But they’re acting like they care now, and it’s way too much for Gabriel to process along with the fact that he’s going to be stuck here with his brothers for who knows how long. Trapped, no escape, and what will happen if they can’t get along?

“I know,” he finally admits, because he _does._ He knows he’s committed the ultimate betrayal: abandoning his brothers when they needed him the most. He honestly doesn’t know if he forgives any of the actions either of them have perpetrated, so he doesn’t expect to be forgiven, but what’s written all over Mike’s and Lucy’s faces say differently. “I’m sor...”

Lucifer kisses him again, cold tongue brushing up against his own. Michael’s breath is warm on his cheek as he kisses him, he then pushes Luce aside to pull Gabriel’s face towards him and allow their mouths to collide of their own accord, both needing something they have never fully shared with each other. Their noses rub together affectionately, a gesture that stirs up a growl within Lucifer and in his jealousy, he shoves Mike aside so as to repeat the gesture. Michael only laughs, that familiar booming, good-natured laugh that makes Gabriel relax and smile and pull both of them towards him at once, almost knocking their heads together in his desperation. 

Gabriel feels so _good_ and _whole_ and _loved_ right now. He never wants this moment to end. 

As if knowing exactly what he craves, Mike and Lucy pull him to his feet and lead him over to the bed, taking turns kissing him and caressing every part of him that they can reach. The best part? Gabriel knows it’s nowhere near over yet. 

He feels so... _perfect._

 

Gabriel wakes up fully rested and sated, feeling better than he has since he left home. He is once more crammed between both of his brothers: Michael burning strangely hot, something which Gabriel has never quite figured out, and Lucifer a cool presence against his back. He smiles, no thoughts taunting him for release anymore. He feels _free._

He also feels restless from lying in bed for too long. He sits up, managing to climb over Michael and half make it out of the bed before Mike’s arm abruptly wraps around his waist, pulling Gabriel back down to his original resting place. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Lucifer lifts his head up to stare annoyingly at the both of them, his hair sticking up in every which direction. “Go back to bed,” he groans, crashing back down behind Gabriel, wrapping both his arms around his younger brother, even further preventing him from moving. Gabriel sighs and Michael smiles, leaning closer to kiss him. “No one said you could wake up this early,” Luce mumbles next, his cold breath against Gabriel’s skin sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. 

“Shut up, Lucy,” he tells him. 

Michael only smiles wider at him, and in that smile Gabriel can see so much love and pride and forgiveness that he feels near to bursting with it. “How are you feeling, Gabriel?” His thumb brushes carefully against the cheek he healed last night, and Gabriel responds by nodding slightly, tears starting to form in his eyes despite his urge to keep all his ‘feelings’ bottled up inside. 

So much for that. 

Luce lifts his head back up and positions himself so he can look down at him. “Now now,” he ruffles Gabriel’s hair and settles himself on top of him, forcing the youngest to lay down flat on his back. “One thing you won’t do is spoil the moment.” His thumbs wipe away several tears that fall, his indulgence a sensation that takes root in Gabriel’s grace and fills him up, making him whole like he’s never been. “You’re back with us, Gabe. Safe and sound.” 

“Exactly where you need to be,” Michael reassures, and Lucifer pulls Mike towards him at that, their mouths locking with a passion so raw it takes Gabriel’s breath away just to watch. 

The kiss seems to go on forever, Luce’s fingers running through Michael’s short hair, Michael tugging him this way and that, at one point almost crushing Gabriel under Lucifer’s weight. Through it all he can’t help but stare, uncaring that he may soon die by squishing, transfixed on the beautiful sight before him. 

“Did you think we forgot about you?” Michael breaks the look of awe on Gabriel’s face, pulling the youngest of the three back down to the bed, he and Lucy soon arguing over who gets to kiss him next, who gets to take care of him first, etc. Gabriel’s surprised to see that they’re not actually fighting about it in the way that they typically would; their intentions are playful and carefree and the mood easily latches onto Gabriel. 

“Whoa there,” he tells them, as he suddenly becomes impossibly squished between the two larger bodies. “Do I get a say in any of this?” He’s smiling as he says it, joy rushing through him because this moment is everything he has ever wanted. Just the three of them, together, taking care of one another. 

“Nope,” they respond simultaneously, eyes and fingers trailing over his skin, Lucifer already keen on love bites and Michael trying to be careful with him, as if unsure whether Gabriel will break in the next second, but altogether too wanting of his little brother to slow down much. Sandwiched between the two of them, letting their love and attention wash over him in calming yet equally exciting waves, Gabriel knows that being trapped here is exactly where he wants to be.

**FIN**


End file.
